It started at sixth form college, what Camilla Logarn calls her “unconditional love for forest, trees and timber”. Truth be told, she doesn’t have forestry in her blood. Growing up in a suburban villa, it was a strong interest in horses that sparked her yearning for country life.
“Animals attracted me, and at sixth form I chose the agricultural programme. But then I became hooked on working in the forest. When we started a family, I wanted to buy a farm with as much forest as possible.”
The storm that changed everything
The farm, located in the village of Kärr a few miles south of Växjö, consisted largely of fine spruce forest. However, it had a rather uniform age distribution, mostly from the 1930s to 1940s. In other words, harvest time was approaching. But Storm Gudrun felled nearly half of Camilla Logarn’s forest. Across Sweden, 75 million cubic metres fell – as much as is normally harvested in Sweden in an entire year. For Camilla Logarn, Gudrun meant she had to rethink – and start over – in her forest.
“The storm inspired me not just to keep planting spruce, but to plant the right tree species on the right ground. It feels brilliant to have achieved more variation and diversity.”
She chose to plant more pine and give birch room to thrive.
New perspectives on the forest
Swedish forest policy previously stood out for strong state control. The goal was primarily secure production for industry, resulting in mainly spruce being planted. But during the 1990s, a new forest policy was introduced and a new Forestry Act came into force. Environmental goals were given greater priority and placed on equal footing with production goals. Forest owners gained greater freedom in their forestry practices, but also greater responsibility to manage their forests sustainably.
“Freedom with responsibility means a tremendous amount to me. I engage more when I get to decide for myself. And when my neighbours do things their way, we get a mosaic in the landscape, with different methods and results,” says Camilla Logarn.
Since the 1990s, attitudes to old dead trees have also changed. The Swedish National Forest Inventory’s measurements show that the volume of deadwood has tripled since the new Forestry Act was introduced. Camilla Logarn is one of those who has embraced this new approach:
“When I bought the forest in 1991, there wasn’t a dead branch left – everything was tidy and looked neat. It was a fantastically beautiful forest to walk around in. After Gudrun, trees lay everywhere. We couldn’t manage it all. But I could see the positive effect it had, and now we leave more dead trees. It benefits many species.”
Production and conservation hand in hand
It’s clear that Camilla Logarn sees her forestry as more than just production. At the same time, she’s careful to point out that the forest’s economic value is essential for the farm to function.
“The loans need paying. I want production and conservation to go hand in hand on my land. Around 10–11 per cent of my property consists of old spruce forest with high conservation values that I don’t harvest. I also have smaller projects – I put up masses of bird boxes, leave large thickets of goat willow and have some fine oak pastures that I cherish. These are things you do because you find them enjoyable, when you love your forest. When I harvest, edge zones and snags are naturally left because they’re important for many species.”
But abandoning rotation forest management in favour of continuous cover forestry holds no appeal.
“That’s not for me. Today I clear away spruce in favour of birch and pine. If I did nothing, the spruce would come like a thick carpet. That doesn’t benefit biodiversity or growth at all. My forest is important as a carbon sink and I want it to grow,” Camilla Logarn says firmly.
But how does it feel to clearfell a forest you’ve tended for a long time?
“I recently clearfelled a fine stand that I’d thought long and hard about. And it turned out beautifully, with an edge zone towards the pond, and we saved all the old trees with bird nesting holes. Now the berry bushes can emerge. Both the elk and I like that. A felling site can be beautiful in many ways,” says Camilla Logarn, continuing:
“You don’t think a harvested field is ugly in autumn. This is much the same thing. It just takes a few more years, then new little seedlings come that I can follow.”
Is there anything about Swedish forestry that worries you?
“I think it’s important that each forest owner takes responsibility for their forest. What worries me is that others can come in and have opinions. A few years ago, the Swedish Society for Nature Conservation did an inventory in my forest without even talking to me.”
The findings led to harvesting being temporarily halted.
“Then it turned out their information was incorrect, but it took a year before I could proceed. I think it’s wrong that others can come in and control my forest. It felt like they stepped into my kitchen without knocking. Why don’t they buy their own forest and manage it as they wish?”
Responsibility and future
The conversation turns to responsibility and the future.
“Being able to come out for a walk and think about trees is absolutely fantastic. I’ll always work to leave an even better forest behind me than the one I bought. That’s probably how all forest owners think. My children know which my treasured trees are, the ones that must never be felled,” says Camilla Logarn, continuing:
“That’s exactly what’s so wonderful – thinking long-term and being a small part of a larger cycle. It takes time for a forest to grow. What I plant, I’ll never see clearfelled. That becomes the next generation’s task. I believe forest owners are people with great patience.”
Text: Malin Age Photo: Jonas Ljungdahl
